Just a Dream
by Bain Sidhe
Summary: It wasn't until she watched him die that she realized how much she loved him - Elizabeth is haunted by a terrible nightmare, one that shows her a vision of what might have been.


_He stood across from her on the deck and regarded her with a look that could best be described as melancholy resignation. Her words had been cruel, designed to wound; but rather than lash out at her in like, he had acquiesced to her anger and her spite, wearing them like a shroud. And now, as he regarded her so wistfully, she found that hurting him was the last thing she wanted, and she wished desperately that she could take back all those hateful words. But the bell could not be unrung._

_She knew he was lost to her, even before he bid her his own words of farewell, words which reflected none of her own anger, though – as she reflected on the multitude of betrayals she had inflicted on him over the years – she richly deserved it. But that was not James's way. Not even when she'd found him, drunk and dissolute on Tortuga, had he directed his anger at her, though in truth, hadn't she played a key role in ensuring his disgrace? It was then – as he kissed her goodbye, their first and last kiss all at once – that she realized the depth of his love, and felt her heart constrict with the painful, unbearable realization that she had misjudged him drastically. Her image of James as a cold and aloof commodore who desired her hand in marriage only for status was torn asunder at once, and as she began to comprehend the depths of his devotion, across all the years and miles and insults and injuries, she came to the twin realization that she could – had? – come to love him as she'd never thought possible. But – and a final, terrible epiphany crashed down upon her at once – she also realized with a stomach-churning dread that it was too late. _

_She begged him (too late) to come with her – if only she could explain to him the awakening in her heart! She heard him tell her he would follow, but she knew he was lying. If only she could convince him – if only she could somehow drag him, force him, take him with her – but no, there he was, protecting her to the last, keeping himself between her and the mad crew of the Dutchman, giving his life for the woman who had never given him the slightest shred of her affection. No, no, no, it could not end like this, not like this, not until she could at least tell him that she had been so wrong, so wrong to treat him the way she had, and that, perhaps, his love for her was not so forlorn – _

_But he took the decision from her as he shot the rope, sending her tumbling into the sea, away from the Dutchman and its mad captain, away from danger. Her scream of terror conveyed what her words could not – a plea that he not throw his life away for her, that he should escape with her, to give them the chance they'd never had to love one another – but she saw, before she plunged into the cold depths, the blade run him through, and for all the pain she felt, it might well have pierced her own heart._

"No!"

Elizabeth thrashed and screamed, the horrible scene seared into her brain at the moment Bootstrap Bill had plunged his blade deep into James's chest. Her treacherous mind replayed it with a vicious glee, forcing her to relive the nightmare over and over, and a shuddered sob escaped her throat as her hands flew up to her chest, clutching her shift in anguish.

"Oh God, James, no, no, James…" Her words broke apart into incoherence as sobs wracked her body, as she watched him die again and again in her mind's eye.

"James," she rasped, his name a mantra on her tongue, the world around her invisible through the veil of tears. She felt the wetness streaking down her face and cheeks and made no effort to wipe it away; she was disconsolate.

A long, low groan issued from beside her, and, with the startled, instant realization of the half-awakened, she was brought fully back to the present – she was not on a pirate ship, nor in the ocean. She was in her bed, in her bedroom, in her house in Port Royal. And beside her, slowly awakening from a deep sleep thanks to the commotion of his companion –

"Oh my God, James," Elizabeth collapsed at once and crushed his body into her arms with a madness borne of the most buoyant relief she had ever felt in her life. Because he was _there_, right beside her, warm and alive and quite confused as to why his wife was weeping and clutching him to her bosom as though they had been parted for years.

"Elizabeth?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and confusion. "What's the matter, darling? You're crying." He tried to reach up a hand to wipe away her tears, but was quite trapped in the compress of her arms as she held him in a vise-like embrace, still weeping against the warmth of his neck.

His neck! She loved burying her face in his neck – it was just the right height, when they were standing, and provided the perfect crook for her face when they lay curled up together in bed. In _their _bed. As reality slowly pieced itself back together after the devastating chaos of her nightmare, her breathing slowed, and she felt a delirious happiness settling into every nook and cranny of her soul.

"Oh James, I had the worst dream! I dreamt – " She choked again, the mere thought of the nightmare bringing the sorrow of it back, as though the hideous event had truly happened, rather than simply being a cruel phantasm produced by her treacherous mind.

"I dreamt that you died," she whispered, irrationally afraid that if she spoke too loud, the dream world would replace the waking world. "I dreamt – oh, God, James, I dreamt that I was so horrible, and that we were never married, and that I'd run off to be with Will – "

"Will Turner?" James said in confusion, his still sleep-addled brain latching onto the only thread of which he could make sense. "That blacksmith who ran away with the pirate years ago?"

"Yes," Elizabeth moaned, still feeling the betrayal of her loving husband by her dream-self keenly. "I thought I fancied him once, you know." She could almost see his brow furrowing in concern, and quickly kissed him on the jaw, revelling in how warm and _alive _he was against her.

"Oh, it was just a little childish infatuation," she chided him lovingly, snuggling into him and feeling his hard body pressed against her, wanting to laugh out loud with the joy of it. "Of course it meant nothing. But in my dream…" She grew sombre again and slid her hands up his muscular back and shoulders to tangle in his hair, nuzzling her face into his neck and squeezing her eyes closed against the awful memory.

"In my dream I'd abandoned you to run off with him, and broken your heart – oh, James!" She felt her tears falling again, dampening the skin of his neck as she pressed her face tight into him. "I was so wretched – I said the most terrible things to you – and then you died for me on some cursed pirate ship and I never even got the chance to tell you how I loved you – oh God, James, it was so real, I could see it so clearly, and I had to watch you die in front of me!" She began to cry again, and this time it was he who gathered her close against him in his arms.

"Hush, now," he soothed her. "It was all just a dream, Elizabeth. As you can see, I am quite alive, and we are quite married. You certainly didn't 'run off' with the blacksmith and I have most certainly not met my doom on a cursed pirate ship." He lifted a hand to her face, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb, and placed a soft kiss to her forehead. "You see? I'm very real, and here with you."

She managed a wan smile at that, and drew back to regard her beloved husband. He looked upon her with kindly, loving eyes, those intensely soulful green eyes that she had fallen in love with all those years ago. His handsome, masculine face, framed by his long dark hair that she so loved to tangle her fingers through; his strong body, hard and muscular from years of work aboard ships of war; yes, she sighed happily, running one hand through his hair and resting another against the firm plane of his chest, he _was_ very real, and very hers.

Reaching over, she kissed him slowly and deeply, and he responded with equal fervour, his lips caressing hers with the practiced ease of a long-time lover. It was some time before they parted, gasping for breath, and Elizabeth snuggled against him as he lay back on the bed and rested her head against his chest, his steady rhythmic heartbeat a comfort to her shaken nerves.

"I suppose you've convinced me," she said, smiling against his chest.

"Good," he said, wrapping an arm around her and holding her tightly against him. She felt him bend his head forward and press a soft kiss to the top of her head. She sighed blissfully, but the part of her mind that was still unsettled wondered if what she had dreamed was the path her life would have taken if she had not married James and had, in some flight of fancy, decided to join Will Turner on his pirate adventure all those years ago. She remembered the pirates, if not with fondness, then with a certain wry amusement; but the idea of actually sailing off with them, of leaving the man she loved to live a life of peril that very well might have ended in such horrible tragedy, was…

"Absurd," she whispered, placing a soft kiss to his chest.

"What's absurd?" he murmured, sleepy once more now that the excitement of the night had abated.

"Imagining my life without you," she murmured back, feeling a similar weariness afflicting her in the wake of her emotional unrest. "Without our children. It's simply unfathomable."

He chuckled softly. "All the more reason your bad dream should be dismissed from your thoughts." He squeezed her shoulder gently and nuzzled her hair again. "I will always be here for you, Elizabeth, and I will always, always love you."

His words were tender and loving and yet brought a tightness to her throat and tears to her eyes as the terrible imagery from the dream forced itself, as though refusing to die, once more into her consciousness. With an effort that was greatly aided by his solid, warm presence against her, she told her mind that _this is not real_ and banished it forcefully and, she hoped, permanently.

"I will always love you, James," she whispered against him. "Always."


End file.
